


Musical Psychology — Ian Duncan/Reader [DISCONTINUED]

by miss_doe



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_doe/pseuds/miss_doe
Summary: [DISCONTINUED]You are a freshman music major at Greendale hoping to get your GPA up (and perhaps even earn a scholarship) so that you can make it into your dream school— Julliard. You think it might be extra impressive to take some harder courses, landing you in Professor Ian Duncan's Psychology 101 class. Hijinks ensue!
Relationships: Ian Duncan/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Welcome to Greendale

As for most people who went there, Greendale was definitely not your first choice of school, especially for your major. You were a music major hoping to get into a school with a serious program. You did get accepted into a few good schools, but none wanted you in their music programs. Unfortunately, you could see why. You laid low most of high school, not involving yourself in many activities that could potentially spice up your college resume. You cruised at low 90s-high 80s for most of your classes and it was hard for you to get anything above that. But times had changed and now you were ready to gear up so hopefully you could get into a good school. You were gonna push super hard in all your classes, take every extra opportunity you could, and boost your GPA to a 4.0. To show your professors you really cared, you were going to get to each class 30 minutes— no— a full hour ahead of the class start time!

It was 8:00 AM precisely when you plopped down in the seat of your first class of the day— Psychology 101. You had to admit that you were surprised that you got there a full hour before. Usually you were never the Type A kind of person to make (and keep) promises to yourself, but here you were. You expected your professor to already be there setting up for the day, but they weren't. It was odd that the door was already unlocked.

To keep yourself busy in the meantime while you waited, you pulled out a book of manuscript paper. It was best that you practice your theory while you had extra time. You needed to be the best of the best if you wanted to guarantee your success after all.

You weren't sure how many minutes went by as you hastily scribbled down notes on the paper, but you eventually felt the presence of someone peering over your shoulder. You looked up to see a tall man glancing over your shoulder at your manuscript paper. His dark brown (almost black even) hair was messy and he had bangs that covered his forehead. He wore glasses that framed his inquisitive, dark brown eyes which scanned over the page, looking at every note you had written. He quickly noticed you glancing up at him and spoke.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to be nosy, but you were the first one here so I thought I'd check out what you were doing over here. I must've left the door unlocked _again._ " He sighed.

You had been so focused on your work that you hadn't even heard him come in. "It's okay. Are you the professor?" You asked.

"Yep! That's me. I'm Professor Duncan. And you are?"

"(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)."

"Very pleased to meet you, Miss (L/N)!"

"You too." You glanced at the clock. It was now 8:35. "I got here a little over a half hour ago."

"A half hour!?" He exclaimed. "Wow. You're quite the punctual student."

"Yeah, I wouldn't necessarily call myself that." You replied.

"Why? Just here early to make a good first impression?"

"Nah," You laughed. "I just wanna get places on time more often. Maybe then I'll be able to gain more control over myself."

"Ah, nothing like some good, old self-discipline. Well, I wish you luck on your journey to achieve that!" Professor Duncan smiled lopsidedly, showing his crooked teeth. "May I ask what you're working on there?"

Oh God. You had officially branched from introductions to small talk territory. "Oh, uhhh, not much. Just some simple music theory practice. I'm a music major if it wasn't obvious already." _Yeah, duh._ You mentally face-palmed.

"You're a musician? I'm sorry to say, but you didn't really pick the best school for your interests." He chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," you sighed defeatedly. "I got rejected from every music program I applied to, but if I spend this year broadening my college resume and get my GPA up to a perfect 4.0, then I'll apply again and hope someone takes me."

"That's quite ambitious of you. What instrument do you play?"

"Piano. I'm also just a general lover of music theory and I hope I can write my own stuff eventually."

"That's nice. I can also play piano, but I'm no professional. That would lie in psychology. This however begs the question of why did you sign up for a psychology class if you're a music major?"

"I wanna take hard classes to prove that I'm good enough for all these schools. I know it sounds dumb to consider, but my dream school is Julliard."

"No, no. That's not dumb at all! We all have dreams. It's just very few of us have the motivation to pursue them. I have faith in you, Miss (L/N)." He smiled warmly at you. "Well, I have some prepping I should get to before class starts. I'll leave you to your work." He patted your manuscript paper book.

"Okay. It's nice to meet you." You awkwardly smiled back at him, diverting your gaze to your theory as soon as you could.

"And you as well." He replied, heading to the desk in the front of the room.

You mentally sighed that that was over. You were never good at talking to new people. Your heart would just randomly race at the thought of any conversation and you were never any good at making eye contact with anyone. It almost _burned_ to. Nevertheless, you went back to working on your theory. Students began to slowly trickle in, the speed of which got faster as 9:00 drew nearer. Eventually it was time to start class and Professor Duncan rose from his chair.

"Hello, class!" He started.

The door slammed shut as a student walked in late. Duncan merely shot him a glare before he scampered to find a seat.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" He cleared his throat and proclaimed louder than the last: "Hello, class!"

A lazy chorus of 'hey's and 'hi's and 'sup's mumbled their ways out of the classes mouths.

"My name is Professor Ian Duncan and I will be your Psychology 101 professor for the year. Now since it's the first day, we'll be having shortened class periods, so you'll all have extra time to relax before your other classes of the day begin. Don't get _too_ used to it." He chuckled to the silence of the class. "I don't really feel like teaching that much today since we don't have a full period of time, so I'm just gonna hand out the syllabus and you all can treat this as a study hall for the rest of the time we're together. Sound fair?"

A mumbled mess of 'okay's greeted his question. He counted out a few papers for each row of students, licking his finger to shuffle through all the papers. As the papers were circulated, Duncan continued to talk.

"As I am the head of the psychology department, I am also the school's licensed psychologist. During the office hours listed on your sheet, you're free to come in whenever you like to chat. My office number is also on there."

You were passed the pile of syllabus papers, grabbing one before passing it on to the person behind you. You started to scan the jumbled up syllabus that was written entirely in comic sans— _yeesh_ — with a meme of a cat hanging onto a tree branch in the upper right corner of the page. You couldn't make out what the meme said as the black and white printer had rendered it unreadable.

"Don't get too wooed over by this guy's fancy wording. I've heard he's a mad alcoholic." Came a voice from besides you. You glanced over to see a guy with dark brown hair and a small nostril piercing— the student who was late to class. "Sorry, probably should've introduced myself first. I'm Jayce Moore."

"It's nice to meet you, Jayce. I'm (Y/N) (L/N)." Oh boy, more small talk. (Or should I say _Moore_ small talk? Hahaha, I'm not sorry.)

"My brother Kyle just transferred from here last year, he was a psych major. He said this dude usually shows up late _and_ is absolutely wasted most of the time. So naturally this sounded like an amazing blow-off class for me."

You cringed a little. A blow-off class? Oh _hell_ nah. You needed this class to count towards getting into a less shithole college, not count towards another year here. Then again, if it is just a blow-off class, maybe you could relax a bit like you used to and still get a good grade. You remained conflicted on the matter. "Well... This will sure be _interesting,_ I guess." You shrugged.

"So I know this is abrupt and all, but I'm kinda looking for a roommate and I've been asking around. I know we don't know each other, but my parents told me that if you room with a friend, you risk tearing your relationship apart, so it's best to room with a stranger." Jayce offered.

"How did you get a dorm so fast? Isn't there like some sort of waiting list for incoming freshmen?" You asked. Greendale's rooming system was a mess and a half if you'd ever seen one. Freshmen had to be put on a dorm waiting list since there were so few of them. So much for a hefty school budget. Maybe more students would have a dorm if the Dean didn't SPEND MONEY ON STUPID EXPENSIVE SHIT. You were still living at home with your mother and you were desperate as all hell to get out of there ASAP.

"I'm from quite a few towns over, so I was bumped to the top of the list. My everyday commute would've been something around four hours if I didn't get a dorm."

"Yikes. Lucky, though." You pondered for a moment before shrugging. What the hell, why not? "Honestly Jayce, I accept your offer. Things haven't been going quite so well at home for me. Parents in the midst of a messy divorce and all that jazz."

Jayce inhaled sharply. "Yikes. I'm sorry to hear that, man."

"Nah, it's good. I saw it coming years ago." You shrugged. "My mom's just really tense right now and I can't take the constant yelling, so it'd be nice to have someone to room with. I didn't have a lot of friends in high school, so maybe I should get out in the world and make some, y'know?"

"Yeah I get that. I can help you move in if you'd like. I have a bunk bed, so we have more room for desks and a couch and shit."

"Nice!" You smiled. "Top or bottom bunk?"

"Bottom. Top's overrated."

"Woah, woah, woah. You take that back if you want me to room with you." You grinned.

Jayce snickered. "Well wouldn't it be better if I _didn't_ like the top? That way you could have it."

"Touche." You both laughed.

You and Jayce kept talking for the remainder of the class. It turns out you were both huge nerds who liked Inspector Spacetime. He was a psychology major, but a music minor, so you both bonded over that. You and Jayce even set up a time to pack your stuff from your house to move to the room. You told him you could bring an old microwave and instant teapot. Jayce offered to purchase a small TV for the room. Eventually the class came to an end and you both gathered your things and headed your separate ways...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter! I hope you guys'll put up with the original character I inserted. Just thought he'd spice up the story a little. I know there's not much Duncan interaction in the first chapter, but trust me, there will be much more to come in the future. :)


	2. The Ballad of Señor Chang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, your first class of the day was Spanish 101 with a very... _eccentric_ teacher.
> 
> Then you and Jayce go to pack your stuff from your house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning: Parents fighting.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

Once again you found yourself sitting in class at 8:00 on the dot, one hour before class. _Two for two!_ You mentally patted yourself on the back. However, once again no teacher was in sight, but the door of the classroom was left unlocked. _What is it with these Greendale professors and leaving the doors unlocked?_

You were glad that all classes were shortened for the week as to accommodate for freshmen like yourself, but nevertheless you were anxious to get out of Spanish as quick as you could. Jayce was going to help you pack what little stuff you had and move it into the dorm room. It wouldn't take long— perhaps only a few hours— but at least it could be done within a day.

You waited for a few minutes in bored silence, but no teacher walked through the door. You decided that maybe a full hour ahead of schedule was a bit _too_ diligent and that maybe you should come only a half hour early like you had originally planned.

To keep yourself busy as you waited, you went to rummage through your backpack for the book you were reading in English 101— _A Tale of Two Cities_. It was your favorite book that you read in high school, one that you actually read instead of looking up all the answers online. Why was the book on a college repertoire when it was usually considered part of a high school curriculum? It's a community college with a low budget, you tell me. You didn't mind reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ again, it would keep you busy and refresh your memory. You knew that you'd ace this unit anyway since you've already read the book.

_It was the best of times, it was the wo—_

You heard a feminine scream come from the front of the classroom, which caused you to jolted up as you gasped at the sudden noise. Your eyes fell upon a short Asian man, presumably the one with the feminine scream.

"How the hell did you get in here!?" He yelled. You assumed this was your professor.

"Uhhh... the door was unlocked?" You answered, confused.

"God dammit..." He muttered. "They don't pay me enough to fix the lock on that damn thing."

You went back to reading, but couldn't focus as your teacher began to play typical Spanish music on full blast from the speakers in the front of the classroom. The same flow of students like yesterday began to trickle in, slowly but getting faster. It was about five minutes before class was set to start when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

In the seat next to you was a guy with light brown skin and black hair. He was glancing down at your feet. "I like your Inspector Spacetime socks." He said.

"Thanks!" You smiled, happy to meet another nerd. "I got them from Hot Topic a year or so ago."

"That's nice. My parents never let me go there. Too goth for them." He said in a relatively monotone voice. He looked back at your face. "I'm Abed by the way."

"Cool. I'm (Y/N)." You replied.

"Okay, everybody shut your faces!" The professor from before yelled at the class, switching off the music. "I am Señor Chang and I will be your Spanish 101 teacher for the year. I want you all to reach under your desks and pull out the cards from underneath."

You pulled out your card. On the front was a picture of a blue cat in a ballerina costume. What the hell was this? Underneath the cat were the phrases "el gato", "azul", and "bailar". Señor Chang continued to explain.

"This is an ice breaker activity." _Fuck._ "You will first meet up with the person who has the same animal on your card as you. Go on, mingle!" He barked.

You looked around the class, glancing at the cards of others until you came across a tall, lanky man with messy light-brown hair. He didn't look like your typical straight-from-high-school freshman.

"Okay, now that you've all found your partners, introduce yourself in Spanish using the directions on the back." Señor Chang instructed.

You flipped over your card. On the back was the phrase "Hola, me llamo __________" along with three verb conjugation tables.

"Hola, me llamo Jeff." _(Hello, my name is Jeff.)_ The man said in a rather bored voice.

"Hola, me llamo (Y/N)." _(Hello, my name is (Y/N).)_ You replied.

"Now I want you to use the words on the front of the card to explain what color the animal is and what it is doing." Señor Chang said next.

"El gato es azul y baila." _(The cat is blue and dances.)_ You spoke slowly, conjugating the verb with the help of the tables.

"El gato es rojo y cocina." _(The cat is red and cooks.)_ Jeff replied in the same bored tone.

"Now for the final step, you both need to share one fun fact about yourself— a new one for each partner. Go." Señor Chang finished his instructions.

"I'm a music major." You said. "And you?"

"I'm just trying to take the easy way out to get back my law degree after my first one was found to be less than real." Jeff shrugged.

"Oh. That's, uh, fun I guess." You sheepishly replied.

"Now go and find the person with the same colored animal as you and after that find the person with the animal doing the same activity as you." Señor Chang yelled to the class before sitting down at his desk.

Throughout the course of the rotation, you found that your older classmate Pierce had the card of the blue cow that sang and your other classmate Britta had the card of the green dog that danced. Pierce bragged to you about being the face of Hawthorne's infamous wipes, which you had never heard of before, and Britta revealed that she was a high school dropout. Señor Chang then had you all return to your seats and handed out a syllabus before letting you free-roam again. You and Abed swapped numbers so you could both binge-watch the upcoming marathon of Inspector Spacetime together (along with Jayce as well). You headed out of the classroom, eager to get your other class of the day done.

* * *

It was 4:00 PM when you quickly ran out of your Calculus 101 class and up to Jayce's car parked outside the front entrance. You only had a bike to get around campus, but Jayce had a whole van, which would make the transportation process of your stuff much easier. From what you gathered, you reckoned that you could fit all your belongings in there in one trip. You drove for about 10 minutes until you reached your house, where you unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

"Hey, mom! We're here!" You yelled, hoping to catch her attention. You had previously texted her that you found a roommate (much to her relief since the dorm application process was a pain in the ass) and that you were coming to pack your things together.

"Hi, honey!" Your mom called from upstairs. "I'm a little busy right now, but you and your friend can come right in and pack. I left a few boxes out for you."

"Okay! Thank you!" You replied.

You and Jayce went up the stairs and into your room. You played some music while you packed to make the task a little less tedious. It took you around three hours to pack all the stuff you needed and a few extra boxes, but now you were all set to leave. You were halfway down the stairs with your first two boxes— Jayce in tow with two more— when you heard the doorbell ring.

"I'll get it!" You yelled to your mother before hurrying down the stairs. You set the boxes down and opened the door to reveal... your dad?

"Dad? What are you doing here?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

"I was just about to pick up your mother for our meeting with the divorce lawyer. Who's this?" He asked, gesturing to Jayce. "Is he your boyfriend."

"No, sir," replied Jayce. "I'm just her roommate. I'm aro-ace."

"Aro... What now?" Your father was confused.

"He's not romantically or sexually attracted to anyone." You explained.

"Ah, okay. Can you ask your mother if she's ready to go?" Your father asked.

"Okay. Wait here, Jayce." You told him before hurrying up the stairs and into your mother's room. Your mother was hunched over her desk, writing.

"Hey mom, dad's here." You said.

Your mother scoffed. "What does he want now? He already took half the kitchen appliances, the love seat, and that expensive table I bought."

"He said he's here to pick you up for the meeting with the divorce lawyer." You replied.

Your mother let out an angry sigh, putting down her pen. " _Jesus Christ, Harold._ Tell him that I can drive myself, just like we had originally agreed upon."

"Mom, why don't you just go talk to him? I'm sick of being a message board between you two!" You said with an agitated tone.

Your mother balled her fists before taking a deep breath and exhaling. "You're right."

She grabbed the papers she had been writing on— no doubt important forms for the lawyer. She put them in a manila folder and stormed out of her room and down the stairs. You followed.

"Harold, I told you that I was going to drive myself." Your mother snapped at your father.

"And I offered to pick you up because it's the nice thing to do." He retorted.

"The so called 'nice thing to do' would've been not sleeping with another woman and being absent for most of your child's life!"

You looked at Jayce in the middle of the stairs who was looking down at his feet. You knew that same uncomfortable feeling and you pitied him.

"That was years ago!" Your father snapped back.

"Yeah, and now you're going out with some other whore in the midst of our divorce!" Your mother screamed. "You only offered to drive me because you wanted an excuse to come to the house and take more of my shit away from me!"

"That is not true, stop making up accusations!"

"What's next? You want the TV? The Wi-Fi router? The whole house!?"

"I want your respect, Michelle!"

"Well, you lost that years ago when you decided to think with your dick instead of your brain!"

You couldn't take it anymore. You didn't say a word, you just bolted out the door crying.

"(Y/N)!" Called Jayce, who was cut off as you slammed the door to your house.

You went to the open garage and hopped on your bike, not bothering to put on your helmet as it was just a waste of time. You didn't know where you were biking, you just wanted to get away from the house.

Suddenly, an intrusive thought popped into your head. Your psychology professor said he was open to talk during office hours and those lasted until 9:00 PM. You decided to ride your bike to campus.

It took you thirty minutes, but you eventually arrived back at the school. You hastily parked your bike and locked it before entering the school. You began looking for Duncan's office, which took you a few minutes, but you eventually found it. You took a deep breath, hoping to at least somewhat control the tears, and hesitantly knocked on the door...


	3. Therapy and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan gives you some life advice and you join a Spanish "study group".

You took a deep breath, hoping to at least somewhat control the tears, and hesitantly knocked on the door...

* * *

"Come in!" Professor Duncan's slightly muffled voice came from the other side of the door as well as the sound of drawers being hastily opened and shut.

You quickly wiped the tears off your cheeks in an attempt to look like you weren't just ugly sobbing minutes ago, but your eyes still gave it away. Either that or you looked incredibly high. You closed your eyes, attempting to ground yourself, as you pushed open the door.

Duncan looked up from his desk. "Ah, Miss (L/N)! Come in."

You closed the door behind you and surveyed his room. The desk— no, the room itself was cluttered head to toe in different trinkets. The walls were a desaturated green color and were littered with all sorts of decorations. You caught a glimpse of a shot glass on Duncan's desk, which he attempted to discreetly hide when he saw you looking at it. _Maybe Jayce was right about the alcoholism._ Duncan motioned for you to sit down on his blue, patchwork couch which you gingerly did. Despite the outward appearance, the couch was very comfortable and not scratchy at all.

"What seems to be your dilemma? Classes just started and I haven't handed out any work yet, so I assume you visited me more as a psychologist than a professor, correct?" He asked. You could tell he was staring at your face. He probably noticed that you had been crying.

"It's a little weird pouring my heart out to essentially a total stranger, but okay. Here we go." You heaved a heavy sigh. "My parents are in the midst of a really messy divorce right now."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He replied.

"Nah, it's okay. I guess I've just seen it coming for years now. My roommate was helping me box up some of my stuff to move into our dorm when my dad came to the house. He and my mom got into this big argument and I just had all these flashbacks to when they would argue when I was a kid and... well I guess it's pretty obvious that I've been crying, right?"

"Yeah. I noticed that your eyes were red when you walked in here." He noted. "Well lucky for you, I'm actually pretty well versed in talking about divorce. I've had many students affected by parental divorce and even some affected by divorce directly, so know that you're not alone."

You gave Duncan a weary smile and muttered a small "Thank you." He continued.

"My parents divorced when I was younger and my father was absent most of my life. Can't even remember what the bloke looks like at this point."

"Tell me about it..." You mumbled. "My dad's been absent most of my life too. I know he's my dad and I'm supposed to love him and all, but I hardly know him."

"I understand that feeling. In every other model family you see this perfect mother-father-child relationship. I always envied that when I was younger. I felt like I had to love my father even though I didn't know him. Y'know that old saying 'blood is thicker than water'?"

You nodded.

"Well the full phrase is 'the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb'. You don't have to love your family just because they're related to you. If your father's a deadbeat dad then to hell with that guy! Your true family is the ones who raised you up, not the one who supplied half your DNA."

"You're right." You sighed. "Thank you."

"Anytime. College is a growing point in any person's life. Believe me, your 20's are going to be just like your teen years except now you have to pay bills and you can drown your sorrows in a nice glass of wine. Find your own family, don't worry about your dad. And if there's anything else you need from me, my door is always open during office hours. Just make sure to knock. I, uh... might be with another student." He lied through his teeth.

"It's okay, Professor. I saw the shot glass, but I'm not a snitch. Besides, I already got word from an anonymous source that, how do I put this nicely... you're a little bit of an inebriate." You sheepishly said.

Duncan scoffed. "A _little?_ That's an understatement. Well since my cover is blown, if you want any alcohol while you're here, I've got plenty to share." He laughed.

"No, thanks," you politely refused. "I really don't feel like getting in trouble for underage drinking right now."

"Oh well, your loss." Duncan shrugged. He opened a drawer in his filing cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine and a glass, pouring himself one. "Please take no offense to this, but you seem like a deeply troubled individual." 

"None taken," you replied. "It's not exactly a secret at this point."

"I think we should schedule at least weekly sessions, just as a check up to see how you're doing. You can of course come in more than once a week if you'd like. It doesn't matter if you want to do a specific time or if you want to do different times each week." Duncan paused, pondering for a moment. "Y'know, I don't usually do this, but I'll give you my personal number. You seem trustworthy enough that you wouldn't leak it or use it in any immature way. And even if you did, there would be strict consequences from the school." Duncan shot you a dark look to confirm that you knew the consequences of acting irresponsibly.

You meekly nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Very well then." Duncan uncapped a pen, jotted down his number on a sticky note, and handed it to you. "If you're all set, I'll see you in class... when do you next have my class?"

"I think it's tomorrow." You shrugged.

"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow! Bright and early, I presume?"

"Nah," you laughed. "I'm only gonna come a half hour ahead. After freaking out Señor Chang today, I don't want to be screamed at anymore."

"Ha!" Duncan exclaimed. "You scared him? He has a really feminine scream, doesn't he?"

" _Yeah_." You chortled. "You didn't hear that from me, though."

"Oh no, of course not. But I have heard it from him."

You both laughed.

"Well, goodnight Miss (L/N)." Duncan smiled at you as you got up to leave.

"Goodnight, Professor. You don't have to keep calling me Miss (L/N), though. Call me (Y/N)." You said.

He nodded as you headed out the door.

* * *

You had just stepped outside your World History 101 class at 4:00 PM when you received a text from Abed. "Meet in the library study room. Spanish study group formed by Jeff."

Jeff... That name sounded familiar. It then hit you that he was one of your partners in that little icebreaker activity that Señor Chang had you do the previous day. He seemed like an oddball, but hey, anything to help you get 110% in your classes.

You arrived at the library within a matter of minutes. Around the table sat Abed and a few other faces you barely recognized from your Spanish class. The only other one you knew the name of was Pierce— the older guy who bragged about his wipes in Spanish class yesterday. You sat down next to Abed, a little anxious since you knew nobody besides him.

Let's just say that everything went downhill from there. Jeff finally showed up before promptly leaving and then promptly returning again with a blonde girl who's name you remembered to be Britta. Pierce did the favor of introducing everyone in a racist or creepy way. At least you learned then names of Annie, Shirley, and Troy that way. Jeff then stirred up a fight among everyone and left _again_ and came back _AGAIN_. He then tried to restore peace before claiming that everything was a lie and that he had all the test answers. He then left for the last time. Your original suspicions about this guy were proven right, he really was weird. It quickly became boring without him there, so the group dispersed before you all found Jeff on the steps outside next to a pile of blank paper. He admitted to not having the answers, but for some reason the group took him back in. It was an odd sequence of events, but you felt like you had finally found that family you had talked about with Duncan...


	4. The Talent Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dean announces Greendale's first annual talent show! Peer pressure ensues.

Around twenty minutes ago, you had received a text from Jayce informing you that his Latin 101 class was going to last a little longer than originally planned. Apparently some wise-ass dickhead decided to talk back to his hot-head of a Latin teacher which in turn earned the entire class the wonderful punishment of staying back late a half hour. Great. There goes your ride— at least for thirty minutes. You decided that if you were going to do anything useful with your time, you might as well explore the school. Twenty minutes of boring walking later is when you stumbled upon the unlocked door of a practice room with a piano inside. Again, classic Greendale with these conveniently unlocked doors.

Discovering the piano was like discovering gold to you. Finally something good to do with your time! You sat down at the piano bench and tried to think of something simple and easy to play. Upon remembering your early childhood piano lessons, the thought to play _La Vie en Rose_ popped into your mind. Sure, why not? It had been a few years, but it was an easy and beautiful song to play. You straightened your posture, rounded your fingers, and began to cautiously work out the song from memory as you softly sang along. You closed your eyes, trying to dig into your subconscious for the correct notes.

_"Hold me close and hold me fast.  
The magic spell you cast,  
This is la vie en rose.  
When you kiss me heaven sighs  
And though I close my eyes,  
I see la vie en rose.  
When you press me to your heart  
I'm in a world apart,  
A world where roses bloom,  
And when you speak  
Angels sing from above.  
Everyday words seem  
To turn into love songs.  
Give your heart and soul to me  
And life will always be la vie en rose."_

You finished the short tune with a flourish of notes up to the highest key on the piano, quietly laughing in the disbelief that you actually remembered that old tune.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the sound of clapping come from behind you. Your face turned beet-red. Oh boy. Someone had discovered your little secret. You snapped your head to look over your shoulder, seeing none other than Professor Duncan standing there in the door frame with his normal cheeky grin on his face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to be nosy, but I heard singing and I was curious. My, my, (Y/N). You told me you could play piano, but you didn't tell me you could sing too!" He laughed.

"Yeah there's a reason I don't do that. I can play piano just fine, but my voice leaves something to be desired." You awkwardly stared at the floor.

"Oh, nonsense! Your voice sounds lovely."

You weren't sure how to respond and just muttered out a small "Thank you".

"Do you have a lesson teacher? I know that Greendale doesn't offer any formal lessons like you might've received in high school, but it's always worth it to take private ones."

"No, actually," you shrugged. "I haven't taken a piano lesson for almost eight years now. The last ones I took were from my grandma before she died."

"Ah, I see." Duncan mused, heading over to where you were and leaning on the piano. "Well, I'm not sure if you remember, but I mentioned to you that I can play piano. While I am no Beethoven, my mother did do a lot of living vicariously through me during the divorce process with my father. That prompted intense piano lessons and well... here I am! I could probably teach you a thing or two if you wouldn't mind me teaching you two kinds of lessons in school. That and being your therapist essentially." He chuckled.

"Actually, that sounds nice, Professor. Thanks for the offer." You smiled.

"Alrighty then! We'll schedule this the same as we do with our little weekly check-ups. Sound good?"

You nodded. Your phone then buzzed with a message from Jayce. "Hey, man! Just got out of entire class punishment time, ugh. Meet you at the front." It read.

"My roommate just got out of class and is picking me up to go back to our dorm. I should probably head out." You told Duncan.

"Sure, sure. No worries, no worries. I'll see you around." Duncan replied.

You grabbed your backpack, saying goodbye to Duncan and heading out to the front circle where Jayce greeted you.

"Again, sorry about that." Jayce scratched the back of his neck ashamedly.

"Nah, it's not your fault. Latin 101 maybe isn't as much as a blow off class as you thought, hmmm?" You teased.

Jayce jokingly punched you in the arm. "Shut the hell up, dweeb."

* * *

Duncan shut off the lights in the practice room after you had left, closing the door behind him. He jumped when he noticed Jeff leaning on the wall outside the door of the practice room.

"Oh. Hey, Jeff," Duncan greeted him. "What can I do for you?"

"My Spidey Senses for creepy douchebag-ness went off. What the hell was that in there?" Jeff rolled his eyes at Duncan.

"You mean with (Y/N)? Nothing. I just heard her singing and was curious was all..." Duncan sheepishly replied.

"Duncan, you are a horrible liar. First (Y/N) tells the study group that she's going to weekly therapy with you, then you offer her piano lessons? Seriously, man, what is wrong with you?" Jeff cringed.

"Jeff, while I appreciate your concern, she is a student and I am a professor. We have a professional, friendly relationship— especially with me being her counselor. That's all. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a Liverpool game on in fifteen minutes and I don't want to miss it." Duncan pushed past Jeff, who didn't argue as he walked away down the hall.

Jeff sighed, muttering to himself. "Duncan, you are a confusing and lonely man..."

* * *

"Goooood morning, students!" Rang the all too cheerful voice of the Dean over the loudspeakers of the library study room. You groaned, cracking open your fourth caffeinated soda of the day already. You didn't care that you were gonna have to disrupt Psycho Chang's class to pee in thirty minutes, you just wanted to feel somewhat not dead inside.

"(Y/N), maybe you should stop drinking those. It's not good for your teeth or your health." Shirley's concerned sing-songy voice perked your ears up.

"Yeah, and drink your super-caffeinated insomnia death coffee? So much for 'Good for your health'..." Britta replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Y'know, I like to start my morning with a nice, fresh cup of black coffee." Pierce mused. "It's how I take my Viagra. I crush it up and sprinkle it in."

"TMI, Pierce..." Muttered Troy.

"And for the grande finale of the announcements this lovely morning, I'd like to announce Greendale's first annual talent show! Well technically it isn't annual _yet_ because we haven't done it more than one year in a row, but we're planning on doing it more than one year in a row. Hopefully. Anyways, sign ups are on the front door of the auditorium door and we can't wait to see some great competition out there. Go human beings!" The loudspeaker clicked off.

Your ears perked up again. Talent show? You had to admit, the idea was enticing, but what real talent did you have?

As you got up, lightly groaning at how much the bright florescent lights of the school hurt your eyes, you could see Abed and Troy in the corner of the room already excitedly planning their audition for the talent show.

"A talent show? What is this, middle school?" Jeff rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Jeff. I think it's a cute idea!" Annie huffed, crossing her arms and shooting him a glare.

The loud squeal of the loudspeaker buzzed back to life for one final announcement. "Oh, I forgot to add this: there is a scholarship cash prize of $1,000 for the winner! Have a great day, Greendale!"

"Okay, you're right, Annie." Jeff finally agreed upon hearing the amount in the cash prize.

"(Y/N), you play piano, right?" Shirley asked. "Why don't you sign up for the talent show?"

"I'm not _that_ good at it, Shirley." You sighed.

"Well you have to be at least somewhat good. I see you slaving over your Music Theory 101 homework all the time!" She smiled assuringly at you.

"Thank you for the encouragement, but what the heck would I even do? People go to the talent show to see cool yo-yo tricks, dancing, and hear pop music. I like playing classical music. Nobody wants to hear that."

"Well I think you should think about it." Britta stated firmly. "What's the worst that could happen? If you lose, you lose! If you win, that's $1,000 towards Julliard. I know how much you ogle that school. If you don't at least shoot for that cash prize, you effectively win $0. Just do it."

You stuttered some 'well's and 'I's and 'uh's for a moment before checking your watch. "Well look at the time! We should head to Spanish!"

"But (Y/N), it doesn't start for another ten min—" Annie protested.

"BYE!" You yelled over her before slipping out of the study room.

With the little bit of extra time you managed to snag before Spanish began, you decided to head to your locker to grab some extra pens. Star-Burns would always ask to borrow some, return them chewed (or most of the time just not at all), and just drain your pen supply in general. It was annoying, but you pitied the middle-aged man going through a mid-life crisis so bad that he decided to shave stars into the sides of his face.

Right before reaching your locker, you felt someone grab your shoulder. You turned around to see Duncan.

"Oh, hey, Professor! What's up?" You asked.

"Did you hear the announcement about the talent show?" He asked.

You groaned. "Oh, God. Not you too! Everyone's been pestering me about signing up for it."

"As you should. (Y/N), you're very talented. And with your dream to get into Julliard, you should go for it. Scholarship money coming from a community college as lowly as here is a big deal."

"No. Nobody will like what I play on piano. I only play classical stuff." You crossed your arms defensively.

"But you _don't_ just play classical music. You also sing gorgeously!—"

"Shhhhh! Duncan, nobody can know I sing!" You shushed him.

"What? Why?"

"Truth be told, I've always been embarrassed about it. I've never been very good at the pop standard of singing. I can't riff well and I can't belt without sounding like a murder victim. I have a meek voice. It's. Not. Happening." You said through gritted teeth.

"(Y/N), your voice is not meek. It's soft and gentle. You're extremely talented and you should put yourself out there! Didn't you say you wanted to 'spice up your college resume' or whatever?"

"Look, Duncan. My dream about going to Julliard is being able to play piano in an orchestra setting— not solo— and writing my own music for other people to enjoy performing."

"Well watching others perform your material like that is basically just living vicariously." Duncan retorted.

"Exactly. And I'm fine with that! Duncan, your motives are sweet, but I'm not doing it. Julliard's not gonna care if I skip some stupid 5th-grade level talent show. I have better things I can be doing with my time that Julliard would actually care about." You sighed. "Now, I really gotta get to Spanish before Chang ends my existence, okay?" _So much for the pens._

Duncan hesitated before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, but I'm not giving up entirely on this. It could boost your self-esteem. And also, don't worry about Chang. If he ever does anything to you, I'll let his 5'5 arse have it. Now, hurry along. Get to class."

You scampered off, leaving Duncan groaning in frustration as he put his face in his hands. Duncan turned around to go back to his office before coming face to face with Jeff...


	5. Vaughn's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff confronts Duncan and Vaughn performs a heavily rewritten song.

Duncan turned around to go back to his office before coming face to face with Jeff...

* * *

"J—"

"Shut up, Duncan." Jeff frowned, annoyed. "Look, just stop flirting with these young students. It's creepy and weird."

"I'm not flirting, Jeff!" Duncan barked at him. "She's just. My. Student. And why are you so heated about this anyway? I seem to remember that you had no problem when I asked you about Britta."

"Because Britta is an adult woman! Some of these girls you take interest in are fresh out of high school."

"And your point about harassing me is...?" Duncan rubbed his temples.

"Find a girl closer to your age. You're a little late to the party when it comes to someone like (Y/N)."

Duncan rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of the clock on the wall. "Yeah? And you're a little late to class." Duncan gave Jeff a shit-eating grin and continued walking towards his office.

"Wait! Can't I at least have a late pass or something?" Jeff begged. "Chang's crazy! You know that."

"Yep. And you wasted your time talking to me in the hallway."

* * *

You grabbed a some lunch on a tray and sat down at a table with Britta, Annie, Pierce, and Shirley.

You looked around and saw some faces missing. "Wait, where's Jeff, Abed, and Troy?"

"Abed and Troy are practicing their rap and dance number for the talent show." Shirley proclaimed gleeful. "It's coming along really well. _Wink wink, nudge nudge._ "

You rolled your eyes at Shirley. "Still not doing it..."

"And Jeff is currently being kept back by Chang since he came in late." Britta responded. "Jeff's a douchebag and all, but honestly I feel bad for him. Nobody should have to endure the wrath of Chang."

Annie perked up from her lunch. "Wait, do you guys here... music?"

"Yeah. Vaughn and his dumb band are playing again." Pierce muttered angrily.

An idea popped into your head. "Wanna go make fun of Vaughn's dumb band together?" You smirked.

"That actually sounds like a great idea!" Pierce genuinely smiled— something which he rarely did.

"Now, (Y/N), Pierce. It's not very nice to make fun of other people, even if they've made fun of you before—"

"Can it, Shirley." Britta cut her off. "I'm in."

"Well, Vaughn's not _that_ bad, guys!" Annie said. Everyone shot her a glare that practically said _"Really, Annie?"_ , causing her to blush and look down at her lap. "Fine."

You all headed over to the spot where Vaughn was performing.

"Thank you everybody! I hope you all enjoy our next song." Vaughn stepped up to the mike, taking off his shirt. Shirley began to giggle at his tiny nipples.

_"Saying goodbye to Britta  
Was the hardest thing to do..."_

"Oh God, not this again..." Britta muttered.

_"But then (Y/N) turns you down  
And bitches are two for two."_

Your eyes grew wide at the next line. _What in the fresh hell?_

"Okay I completely redact was I said before about not making fun of people, this guy can eat it." Shirley muttered.

"(Y/N), what the hell did you do to Vaughn that he hates you this much?" Britta questioned.

You sighed, recounting your story to the group. "Yesterday Vaughn asked me out and I turned him down, but he got all pissy about it! I tried to be polite and all, but he just kept nagging me."

"Ugh. What an incel." Britta groaned.

_"I didn't need you anyway (Y/N), wooooah!  
I have way more girls to fuck  
'Stead of wasting time on you, wooooah!"_

"Vaughn's now made fun of three members of our study group. We can't just stand for this any longer!" Britta sighed. "This has to count as bullying or harassment or just a crime against music."

"Okay, I'm done! I can't take this horrible musical composition any longer!" You snapped, going back to the dining hall to eat your lunch.

Pierce, Shirley, and Annie turned to follow you, but Britta stayed behind a second longer just to yell "SIMP!" at Vaughn before bolting after you.

* * *

You knocked on Duncan's door. He yelled his usual "Come in!" and you pushed open the door.

"It's nice to see you again, (Y/N)." He smiled as you took a seat on his patchwork couch. "Anything bothering you as of late?"

"Ughhhhh." You groaned. "I was planning on just mentioning to you how Vaughn got angry when I turned him down as a minute detail of our session today, but it's grown into something more."

Duncan looked up from the student papers he was grading with an irritated look on his face. " _What?_ " He growled before correcting his tone. "I... I mean, what happened?"

"So like I said, Vaughn asked me out yesterday right before Jayce and I were about to drive back to our dorm. I was like 'No thanks' but started nagging me, so Jayce just kinda took off. I thought that was the end of it, but now he rewrote that horrible song about Britta to be about how he didn't need me anyway and he preformed it during lunch today. He's such an incel!"

"A... A what now?" Duncan asked, confused.

"Oh, y'know like a neck-beard or a 'nice guy' or a simp." You shrugged.

"I still have no clue what any of those words mean."

"A guy who thinks he's entitled to women and puts them on a pedestal until they tear him down and he gets all whiny."

"Ah, I see." Duncan replied. "New kid language these days..."

From your back pocket, your phone suddenly blew up with notifications. You groaned. "Sorry about that, I must've switched off silent mode on accident."

You grabbed your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, flipped it open, and switched it back to silent before reading the texts from the study group's group chat.

"Ugh. Vaughn's trying out for the talent show and Shirley's getting all over my case about it." You sighed before putting your phone away.

"And that's just another reason why you should try out! You can show Vaughn who's boss." Duncan suggested.

"Or I could report him to the Dean for harassment. Seriously, how has he not gotten in trouble yet? He wrote a song calling Britta a bitch, rewrote that song to call Pierce a bitch, and then rewrote the song again to call me a bitch."

"Well I suppose you could try, but the Dean really doesn't care about student justice."

"So basically just like high school..." You muttered, rolling your eyes.

"Yep. Welcome to community college, love."

You shot him a weird glance as your cheeks lightly heated up. _"Love"?_ Then again he was from England, you could give him a break for language differences. You just shrugged it off.

You and Duncan continued on with the session, talking about Vaughn, your parents, your friends, and many other things. You planned out when you would see him next for your weekly check up and for piano lessons before heading out to meet with the study group.

* * *

The study group had wrapped up for the night. Everyone was leaving, but Britta had asked Jeff to stay behind and chat.

"What's up?" Jeff asked her, curious as to why she had pulled him aside.

"Jeff, we need to talk. When I went in for my little therapy session with Duncan today— that, I should note, you so graciously made me do— he was completely drunk off his ass." Britta glared at him, annoyed.

"And? What does this have to do with me? I saved you from getting expelled when you cheated, remember?" He retorted.

"This isn't about that. It's about a little comment he made that slipped out. Something about (Y/N)." She quirked an eyebrow.

Jeff's heart skipped a beat, but externally he remained collected. "And why is this my problem?"

"He said something about you getting mad at him for liking (Y/N)."

"Ha! So he actually admitted to liking her. I knew it!" Jeff exclaimed.

"Jeff! Why were you such a dick to Duncan about it?" Britta pouted.

"Because she's young and he's probably old enough to be her dad or something!"

"Actually he's only in his early thirties, but whatever..." Britta muttered. "But who cares? He's Duncan, Jeff. You've known him longer than I have. He's sad and lonely and maybe you should just let him off the hook, y'know. Wait... You're not jealous are you?"

"What? No!" Jeff protested. "Believe me when I say this, but (Y/N) feels like a younger sibling to me. You might not believe it, but I'm actually starting to care about everyone in this group— at least a little."

"Okay, Mr. I-Care-About-Everyone. Have you ever noticed how (Y/N) acts when Duncan's the subject we're talking about? Her cheeks get a little red and she's always enthusiastic to talk about him. It even happened tonight! I mean, c'mon, it's kinda obvious she likes him— at least a little. Don't you think this whole thing would just be better if you let it be?"

Jeff sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. I won't pester him about this anymore, but if he starts to creep her out—"

"Then you have every right to interject. Just don't ruin something that could be good, okay?"

Jeff nodded. "Okay. I'm also worried because I don't want what happened with me and Slater to happen with her and Duncan. The Dean only let us off the hook because he's into me or something. With someone like (Y/N) and Duncan, they might not get off so scot-free." 

"That's true, but it's still worth a shot." Britta shrugged.

Jeff agreed and the two left the study room, going home for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the kudos and hits. I've been having a lot of fun writing this story and I just wanted to thank you :)
> 
> I hope you have a great day!


End file.
